


can't help falling in love

by braveatheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveatheart/pseuds/braveatheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa finds Clarke in a hidden room of the Polis tower. The night takes an emotional turn that neither of them are prepared for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't help falling in love

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this quite a while back but only posted to tumblr. I hope you enjoy!

I’ve lost count of the number of floors and the rooms within them at the Polis Tower. A few weeks has not been long enough for me to explore the entire thing, but I’ve found my way around a few of the floors. I know the floor I was first on very well, because that’s where the throne room, my room, and Lexa’s room are. 

Sleep beckons to me, but my mind protests against it. It refuses to settle with thoughts of war, the Nightbloods, the Ice Queen, and Lexa. God...it will not let go of thoughts of Lexa. She feels permanently ingrained in my mind.

Every part of her is stored somewhere in my memory. Her braided, beautiful hair. Her eyes that are greener than anyone else’s I’ve ever seen. The way they look in the midst of war, and when she lets her feelings through. The way she grits her teeth and spits her words when she’s angry. Every single thing.

I decide that attempting to rest is useless, and I stand up. I start to search for some sort of shoes to put on, but I decide against it and walk barefoot into the hallway. There’s a slight chill in the air, but I don’t mind. The cold feels good against my overly warm skin. The furs that were provided to me give immense amounts of heat, more than I’m used to. 

I walk my typical route, passing the throne room, then Lexa’s. I wonder if she lies inside awake as well, but decide to trust my better judgement and leave her to rest. I wouldn’t know what to say to her, anyway, and would have no decent excuse as to why I had come to see her in the wee hours of the morning. Instead, I continue on. I find that there’s a path I haven’t yet taken and decide that tonight is no better than any other night to explore, and turn down the new hallway.

It’s much shorter than I originally thought, and stops after only about ten feet. It’s dark enough that I can’t see anything, and I fumble around on the wall until I find a doorknob. I know I could be walking into something very personal or private, or something sacred to the Grounders, but my tired mind does not compute that to be a good enough reason not to go inside. I gently turn the doorknob and peek inside.

Unlike the hallways, this room is well lit by the abundance of moonlight shining in through the windows. They’re bigger and more plentiful in this room than any other I’ve found so far, and it reminds me of the big windows on the Ark. I sigh for a moment at the memory, then allow my eyes to scan the room.

It is void of absolutely anything but a piano placed on a fur in the dead center of the room. I realize that I had never imagined the Grounders in any sort of humane environment. I thought of them only as warriors, but suddenly, my mind races with the thought of Grounders acting as they were...human.

The sight of the piano also elicits memories of my younger years, when Wells and I sat at the piano in the Mess Hall and fiddled around for hours. We played one song over and over, the only one we ever seemed to know. The melody returns to my mind, now, and I make my way over to the piano.

Like much of Polis, it is fully functional but still somewhat damaged. The paint on it is scratched away in some places, and the keys, presumably a bright ivory at one point, are now yellowed and faded. Still, the damage gives it a sort of character.

I sit down at the bench and let my hands fall naturally onto the keys. It’s a wonderful feeling on its own, and the only human thing I can remember doing since getting here. 

I fiddle with the notes for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of the piano’s sound. Soon, the old melody is flowing from my fingers as naturally as if it had been just yesterday. I struggle with the change in key for a moment, but eventually, I re-learn it.

I smile as I think of the lyrics that I could never quite sing. My singing ability is that of someone mildly tone deaf, but still capable of carrying a tune. The vocal part of the key change was always beyond me, and after a brief attempt, I realize that it is still beyond me. I chuckle and shake my head at my inability to really sing, and remember why I was the one who learned how to play the piano and Wells sang instead.

“What are you doing?”

I jump, my smile immediately falling from my face at the sound of her voice. It sounds angry, and my heart races.

“Lexa, I’m…”

“Get out.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Is this yours?”

She says nothing, and merely walks toward the piano at which I sit. 

She runs her fingers across the peeling paint, and they meet aged wood. Her eyes scan the piano’s frame, and they land on the keys. I hurriedly move my hands from the keys.

I don’t know what else to do, so I stand and move to walk toward the door, guilt washing over me like a heavy wave. Lexa reaches out quickly and her hand is warm against my arm. 

I look up, meeting her eyes. The anger seems to have gone, and while I want to ask what caused it, I don’t. Instead, I wait for her to speak.

“That song. Play it again.”

I’m stunned momentarily, and she adds a “please” in a softer tone. I nod and move to sit back down. I find myself leaving room for her to sit on the bench with me, and the action does not go unnoticed. She sits next to me, and we’re pressed up to each other due to the lack of room. I don’t mind, however. Her warmth is welcoming.

My fingers dance nervously across the keys, and I fumble over the notes for a moment. I apologize in a hurried breath as I shake my hands gently and start again, and she says nothing. Instead, I swear I feel her move closer to me.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you.”

I’m so taken aback that I stop playing, and I look toward Lexa. For such a harsh and hardened commander, her voice is astonishingly soft and sweet. I think for a moment that I want nothing more than to hear that again and again.

“Go on,” she insists, and I do.

“Shall I stay, would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?” she continues. I can hardly breathe as she continues on into the bridge, the key change I could never sing. 

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be.”

Her voice is smooth, like the way water falls gently over glass. I can’t contain my smile, but it falters when I look up at her. For only the second or third time since I’ve met her, Lexa’s eyes are glazed over with tears. Still, I continue on, knowing she would stop me if she wanted me to stop.

“So take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Her voice cracks on the last ‘with you’, and I remove my fingers from the keys. The sound still rings, though, as I don’t lift my foot from the sustain pedal.

I look back at her, and her eyebrows are furrowed, as though she’s concentrating very hard on something. Her eyes have fallen shut, and her jaw clenches. I recognize the jaw clench and realize she’s trying her hardest not to cry.

I want to say something, but I don’t know what. Instead, I reach my hand over to hers and offer it to her. Without opening her eyes, she feels my hand on hers and immediately curls her fingers around mine. She’s still warm, and it feels nice on my freezing hands.

We sit in silence for a minute or two, and I let it be. I wait until she’s ready to talk before I say anything.

She opens her eyes a moment later, and the tears she had tried desperately to hide begin to slip down her cheeks. She panics and reaches up to wipe them away, but I grab her hand. It’s a bit more forceful than I intend it to be, but I loosen my grip and gently guide her hand away.

“It’s okay,” I say, reaching up to run my thumb across her cheek. “It’s okay.”

With those words, she begins nodding. Her eyebrows furrow again and I see her shaking. She lets in a shaking breath, and she tries to exhale, but it comes out as a sob.

My heart feels like it’s breaking in two and without thinking, I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. I expect her to pull away once I realize what I’ve done, but she instead falls closer into me. Her head rests in the crook of my neck, and oh, how she cries.

After a few agonizing minutes of sobs, shaking breaths, whimpers, and soaking nightgowns, she begins to slowly calm down. She sits up and doesn’t even bother to try to wipe her eyes. She simply runs her hand through her hair and takes in as deep and steady of a breath as she can.

Silence fills the room once again. She reaches this time for my hand, and I graciously accept her request and hold her hand tightly.

“It was her favorite song,” she says quietly, and tears well in her eyes once again. This time, though, she takes a deep breath and calms herself before she can break down. 

I tilt my head, and Lexa nods, knowing what I’m silently asking. I sigh find myself running my thumb across the back of her hand. 

“Did she play?” I ask. Again, a nod. 

“She tried, anyway. I was the better of the two of us, but she always insisted,” Lexa said, a small, fond smile playing at her lips. I can’t help but smile as well. 

“What was she like?” I ask tentatively. “As a person?”

“Perfect.”

Lexa breathes the word without missing a beat. My heart feels warm as I realize just how much she loved her.

“Well, no, she wasn’t,” Lexa continues quietly, a slight chuckle escaping her lips. “She was terribly unorganized. She was reckless and didn’t think before doing anything, which was the cause for a lot of our petty fights.”

“And stubborn. God, she was stubborn,” she continues, and I smile slightly. 

“How so?” I ask. I shift so that I’m facing her more so than the piano, and she subtly does the same. 

We end up cross-legged on the piano bench, staying balanced by some miracle.

“Anything I ever told her, she quipped back with the opposite. We could never agree on anything except for the fact that we loved each other, and that was enough for me,” Lexa says, and her eyes glaze over with a fondness I don’t know I’ve ever seen.

“She sounds amazing, Lexa,” I say. She nods, and her smile falters.

She’s no longer crying, but a deeper sadness has settled on her face. It makes her look so much older than she is.

“She was.”

Those two simple words make my chest ache and I feel like I’m feeling a part of her loss.

“Clarke?”

“Yes, Lexa?” I ask, meeting her eyes again. They’re watery once more, and I want more than anything to take away her pain.

“I love you and it scares me.”

I’m so taken aback that I gasp, and I search for words. My mouth moves slightly as if trying to speak, but I can’t.

Finally, I think of one.

“Why?”

Lexa breathes deeply and speaks simply. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I loved her. Until you. And I can’t bear the idea of moving on. I feel like I would be betraying her.”

“Would she want you to be happy?”

She thinks for a second, pondering over my words. 

She does not respond for a long time, and looks away. I don’t mind. While she thinks to herself, I turn back to the piano after gently releasing her hand. My finger dance over the keys, playing pieces of other melodies that I could recall. I avoid the first song at all costs, not wanting to cause her any more grief.

“Yes.”

I stop suddenly and look over.

“Yes?” I inquire, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, she would want me to be happy.”

I smile, not knowing what to say to that. I decide that maybe words are not what is needed, and I offer my hand. She doesn’t take it, and for a moment, I’m scared.

Both of her hands reach up and wrap around my neck before I know what’s happening and suddenly, her lips are on mine for only the second time, and I realize how much I’ve missed that.

I sink into the kiss, and my hands reach up to wrap around her neck as well.

“Clarke, you’re crying.”

I pause and open my eyes. Lexa has pulled away just slightly, and I’m looking directly into her eyes.

She reaches up and runs her thumb across my cheek and I can feel the dampness of a wiped off tear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is this okay?” I ask, blurting out the words suddenly. “I just...I know how much she meant to you, and that was your song, and I don’t…”

Lexa kisses me again, softly, to silence me. I don’t speak after that.

“I love you,” she repeats, and her eyes dart back and forth between mine, as though she is nervous for my response.

I swallow hard, hoping Costia will forgive me for taking Lexa’s love, a love that was once for her.

“I love you too, Lexa.”

\---

Less than an hour later, we make our way back to Lexa’s room. In an unspoken agreement, we both climb into her bed, and she wraps herself around me without a moment’s hesitation.

Neither of us speak. Instead, we just close our eyes and let the night settle around us.

I’m almost asleep when I hear Lexa’s voice.

“I’ll always love you, but I know this is what you would want me to do. And I really love her, Cos.”

It takes everything in me to pretend I’m asleep, and I hope that just as I will pretend tomorrow that I didn’t hear her crying to Costia, she will pretend she doesn’t notice the tears slipping down my cheeks as we fall into a blissful, oddly comfortable sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I need more Clexa hurt/comfort fics.


End file.
